


These Broken Parts

by goddamnitkastlewrites



Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 10:18:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11530176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddamnitkastlewrites/pseuds/goddamnitkastlewrites
Summary: First posted to goddamnitkastle.tumblr.com on May 12, 2017.The original summary is below:"So I wasn’t in the greatest head space when I wrote this, at the time I was turning to writing to relieve some stress and anxiety. It’s been sitting in my drafts for a while and I still like what I wrote so I am now publishing.The biggest thank you to @thevampirecat for beta reading/support/enthusiasm and all that jazz.I hope I did Frank justice, now I’m gonna go hide."





	These Broken Parts

The carpet was uncomfortable as all hell. Despite his mind telling him that her couch or her bed would be a much better option, his mind was also telling him to stay there. Stay there face planted on the itchy carpet and there’s a chance the floor will swallow him up. Enfold him until it’s all black and he doesn’t feel like this anymore.

It was awful, these occurrences that happened every now and then. That was a lie, they were increasing in frequency. He knew the word but didn’t dare give it life. That would make it real. It would become a new truth for him if he said it.

_My family is dead_  
_Frank Castle is dead_  
_I’m the Punisher_  
_And I’m depre…_

His fingers grip at the rough material. There was nothing to hold on to but he couldn’t stop the motion. It was grounding him as his mind raced from one irrational thought to another.

_It’s all your fault_  
_You’re a piece of shit you should be dead_  
_Your family never wanted you to come home_  
_It’s all your fault_  
_All you cared about was war, Maria and Lisa and Junior were a necessity to fit in_  
_You’re nothing good_  
_It’s all your fault_  
_If Lisa could see you now_  
_You should’ve offed yourself when you had the chance_  
_It’s all your fault_

In these moments Frank knew he wasn’t himself. But the paralysis was terrifying, his thoughts an anchor dragging him below the surface. All he wanted was to get up, go out tonight, dispense his justice.

_You dispense this “justice” to hide how dead you are inside  
You’ve always been like this, any happiness you felt was not real_

Frank sucks in his breath, blinking through the tears. Fuck if only Hell’s Kitchen could see this. The big, bad Punisher reduced to this.

_It wasn’t on a battlefield. That’s not where my life went to shit._

_It went to shit the moment you went to Central Park_  
_The moment you married Maria_  
_The moment you enlisted_  
_The moment you were born_

He had to get up.

_All you are is broken parts_  
_You’ll never be whole again_  
_You were never whole_

The sun’s streaks travel along the ceiling. He had to go, he would never allow Karen to see him like this. Never see this side of him. This side that kept tearing its way out of him too often now.

He gets up, runs his foot along the carpet. It’s not the kind of carpet that would leave an imprint but he does it all the same. He knows he should leave her alone but she keeps opening her door.

_You’re putting her in danger you’re so fucking selfish_

Later on he tracks down a serial rapist in Brooklyn. Police haven’t been able to catch him. He somehow manages to catch him walking out of a bodega.

After a few rounds of senseless punching, Frank knows it’s time. He pulls the zip tie around the motherfucker’s neck, hears his blood choked cry as he suffocates. He won’t be able to fight him, he’s strapped down to a chair and Frank ripped every last fingernail off on top of breaking his hands.

The fruitless struggling comes to an end quickly but Frank still pulls. Blood starts to spurt out, he’s broken skin. Everything is red; his hands, his jeans, the floor.

He loses his grip on the tie and it slices his fingers. He walks from behind the chair to see his masterpiece. It doesn’t matter. All he sees is Lisa, Junior, Maria. Dripping in all shades of red, pulled apart at the seams.

Then it starts. Frank kicks the corpse and chair over and pins the shoulders down with his knees. He punches away at the pulped face until he cracks it open. It’s not enough and the tears pour. He wonders if he’ll ever see anything else again. See anything but their faces, devoid of life and happiness. He wipes his hands on the guy’s shirt, pulls a tooth out of his knuckles.

He knows the answer but instead of dwelling on it, he leaves. The door is cracked open, the light left on. He texts Micro, tells him the job is done.

_**Good work Frank. There looks to be another rapist a few blocks north. Details to follow.** _

Frank takes a deep breath, wipes his eyes. He knows he’ll have to return to this newfound misery but for now he can forget the mess that he is and try to be something… better.


End file.
